


Eleven Edition

by The_Raconteur_24601



Series: Zepheera-Vision [3]
Category: Doctor Who, The Borrowers - All Media Types
Genre: Doctor Who Crossover, Doctor Who gt, G/T, GT, TINY - Freeform, borrower companion, giant, giant tiny - Freeform, the borrowers crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Raconteur_24601/pseuds/The_Raconteur_24601
Summary: Zepheera-Visions with the Eleventh Doctor*GIFs used are NOT my own, used for illustrative purposes only. I claim no ownership over them.*





	1. Geronimo!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reimagination of the Tenth Doctor's regeneration with Zepheera.

The power of the Doctor’s regeneration knocked Zepheera over, her back hitting the console hard. The heat was incredibly intense, and she scrambled away before she could be too badly burnt. Then the console beneath her sparked forcefully, throwing Zepheera off completely. She landed on the catwalk floor, all the air shoved out of her lungs from the blow. 

Her eyes darted around anxiously as she caught her breath. Everything was on fire. Hot, molten sparks poured from the ceiling, tongues of flame erupted from the floor. A particularly large burst of fire destroyed the integrity of one of the coral supports surrounding the console and, with its connections to both the ceiling and the floor gone, it began to tip inward.

Right toward Zepheera.

Her wits snapped into place at the sight of the massive falling structure, and she shot to her feet and darted toward the underside of the console. The controls themselves would act as a (woefully shallow) awning to hopefully protect her from being crushed, but just in case she ran along the bottom edge in an attempt to get as far away from the danger as possible.

The support crashed into the floor loudly, the actual impact landing far from Zepheera. But it immediately crumbled into pieces, which tumbled next to the console. The tremors caused by the fragments cost Zepheera her balance once again, only this time she was able to catch herself before her face could smash into the harsh metal. Opting to not risk another fall, Zepheera crawled away from the debris.

A voice broke through the rumbling chaos, a scream coming from the Doctor’s direction. Zepheera looked up to find that she was behind the Time Lord, so close that she had to flip onto her back just to make out his head. She watched as his hair suddenly became longer and the scream gave way into an entirely new man’s voice. The regeneration energy dissipated and he went quiet.

But the TARDIS was still falling apart, and a loud crash prompted the Doctor to turn around. Whether it was because he was not used to his new body or if it was simply in his nature to be out-of-balance now, he stumbled around from the momentum of the simple action. Zepheera hadn’t even had time to register what he looked like now, because her focus was entirely on those aimless feet that were a little too close for her liking.  _Don’t step on me don’t step on me please don’t,_  she thought frantically as she backed away from him.

“Legs!” the new voice cried as one of the feet lifted into the air. “I’ve still got legs!” She looked up to find the Doctor grasping his knee and kissing it gratefully. “Good!” He let his leg fall back into place.

“Doctor!” Zepheera called up, but he was preoccupied. His gaze wandered about his body, checking to make sure everything was in order, all with wide and curious eyes.

“Arms!” he exclaimed. “Hands! Ooh, fingers! Lots of fingers!” He wiggled them in front of his face, further distracting him from the borrower trying to get his attention.

Looking around, Zepheera found that one of her ladders to the console had somehow survived the destruction mostly unscathed; it was missing a few rungs and was slightly singed, but Zepheera had climbed worse. She hurried over and ascended the ladder as fast as she could while the Doctor carried on: “Ears: yes. Eyes: two. Nose…mm, I’ve had worse. Chin…blimey! Hair…I’m a girl!”

Zepheera automatically rolled her eyes at the notion that longer hair indicated he was female, but as she pulled herself up onto the console he found his Adam’s apple and decided that he was not a girl. Before she could start to wave her arms or call his name again, he turned away to inspect his hair closer, pulling it in front of his eyes to the best of his ability.

“And still not ginger!”

“Doctor!” Zepheera shouted, but it seemed that he was consumed in his own thoughts.

“There’s something else,” he realized, turning to look around without focus. “Something important, I’m…I’m, I’m–”

“DOC–!” An enormous  _BANG_  cut Zepheera short and threw her as well as the Time Lord off-balance. The Doctor caught himself on the console right next to Zepheera, laughing ecstatically.

“Crashing!”

Losing patience, Zepheera jumped to her feet and yelled, “Would you look at me, you giant idiot?!”

That finally drew the Doctor’s wide, now-hazel eyes toward her. He looked at her for a drawn-out moment before his already massive grin grew.

“Zepheera!” he exclaimed, pulling himself along the console until his brand-new face was inches from where she stood. It was all she could do to hold her ground at the enormous man’s approach. “Oh, look at you! I hardly recognized you, you look so different! But the same! Or maybe that’s just my eyes, same but different!”

Another crash cut his ramble short, and Zepheera wavered in the tremors. Suddenly her feet were pushed out from under her and she landed on something soft, warm, and rising in the air. The Doctor had scooped her up and lifted her to his shoulder. Before she could scold him for not warning her, he was circling the console toward the monitor and she needed to hang on tight.

 _Same old suit,_  she thought absently as she gripped the familiar fabric with white knuckles, then looked up at the Doctor’s profile.  _Brand new man._

The Doctor was whooping enthusiastically, all the rumbles and the image of the planet spiraling on the screen exciting him even more. The TARDIS was falling to Earth, and the Doctor couldn’t be happier.

“GERONIMOOOO!” bellowed the Doctor.

On top of trying not to panic, Zepheera made a mental note to retrain the Doctor’s volume control.


	2. In The Meantime

“Ah! There we are, finally stopped smoking!” the Doctor grinned. “Now to five minutes!”  He darted to the other side of the console, gingerly working the hot controls.

“Doctor, wait a minute!” interjected the borrower on his shoulder. He jumped slightly at her voice, and again when she hopped down from his shoulder onto the warm console to face him. Ever since he had regenerated, everything happened so fast. From hanging out of a crashing TARDIS to nearly drowning in the library’s swimming pool, nothing made sense and Zepheera was reaching her limit.

“Wait? We can’t wait! We’ve got to get back to Amelia!” the Doctor protested.

“It’s a  _time machine_ , you can afford to wait one minute and bloody  _listen_  to me for once!”

The Doctor blinked, backing up a few steps and crossing his arms. The way he used to before he changed. “What’s wrong? Why are you being so grumpy?”

Zepheera sighed, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t mean to be, it’s just…you’re so different. And I-I  _know_  it’s still  _you_. But everything you  _do_  is different. It’s-It’s like we’ve hit reset or something, except you’ve got the energy of a ten-year-old hopped up on too much ice cream. It’s like you keep…”

_It’s like you keep forgetting about me…_

With a frown, the Doctor broke eye contact with Zepheera to study his raggedy shoes. He couldn’t deny that he’d been distracted at best. “I know it’s gonna be hard,” he said at length. “Brand-new me, brand-new behavior, I can’t always help myself.” Those hazel-greens flicked back up to meet her deep violet gaze. “But I promise you that I will get better, if you’ll be willing to help me.”

Zepheera searched his face and found nothing but the truth. After a moment, she nodded.

“Okay,” she said quietly, shifting her feet. “And, er, thanks again. For saving me from the inexplicable pool.”

“You’re still grumpy!” the Doctor pouted.

“I’m not!” Zepheera insisted. “I just…need to get used to you like this, that’s all.”

A small, knowing grin tugged at the Doctor’s lips. “Okay…In the meantime, I am determined to make you smile.” He waggled his thin eyebrows at her and gesticulated wildly, pointing and shooting a finger gun at the borrower on his console.

Zepheera scoffed to cover up the chuckle fighting to escape her, just as the console began to smoke beneath her feet again.

“Alrighty, I think it’s time to go back and save that little Scottish girl of yours”


	3. Whoa

The Doctor’s green eyes were large as his four and a half inch tall companion stepped willingly onto his upturned palm. For the first time since he’d regenerated.

“Wow,” he breathed, a fascinated grin slowly blooming across his face.

Zepheera’s feet shifted awkwardly under his gaze, and the feeling of her changing weight made his smile widen. “’Wow’ what? Not like this is the first time we’ve done this.”

“Well, technically, it is for me,” he pointed out. “It’s all new for these hands.”

As if to emphasize, he stretched and wiggled his fingers, experimenting with how it felt with a person in his hand and how that person was affected. Zepheera felt the muscles shift beneath her, and she lifted her arms to keep balance. Before she could shoot him a scolding look, he began to revolve around his own hand, supposedly another experiment. Zepheera sat down hard to keep from being thrown off.

“Whoa,” he uttered, some of that fascination turning to concern as he slowed to a stop. “Sorry,” he chuckled sheepishly. “Carried away again. You alright?”

Zepheera nodded, swallowing down a dizzy groan as she leaned back against the Doctor’s curled fingers. “Just…don’t do that again. I just might be sick.”

“Yes, ma’am.”


	4. Miss?

Zepheera should have known following John Smith to his job at the toy store was a bad idea.

The Doctor had only been human for a week and a half, lodging with his old friend Craig and his wife and baby. They were fully aware of Zepheera’s presence and the reason the Doctor didn’t remember who he was and why he was concerned with saving enough money to find his own apartment rather than saving the universe. It was a complicated situation, that much they understood, and they were more than happy to accommodate the former Time Lord and the borrower.

But a few days ago, Zepheera overheard John telling them about customers complaining about silver rat-like toys zipping around the aisles where they shouldn’t be. John was surprised how many people saw them while he insisted he’d never encountered such things. He wasn’t even aware that the store  _sold_  toys like that. The thought of what he was describing could be sent a chill up Zepheera’s spine. She had seen cybermats in action and, especially for people like her, they were not good news. Unfortunately, she was the only one who could identify them for sure, so she convinced Craig to help Zepheera, all four and a half inches of her, make it safely to the store without being seen. He agreed immediately but since Sophie was going to be out all day, the baby had to come as well.

Zepheera split up with Craig shortly after arrival, hoping that covering more ground at once would double their chances of getting to the bottom of this as fast as possible. While he and Alfie scoped out one half of the store, Zepheera combed the shelves of the other half armed with a makeshift magnetic charge. She kept close to the back of the bottom shelves, senses heightened and alert and ready for danger. It was extremely risky for her to be around so many humans,  _especially_  children. But it was worth it if she could find a way to be one step ahead of the Cybermen.

Like it wasn’t bad enough that the Doctor was being pursued by another evil entirely, now they had soulless metal monsters to deal with.

Peeking through a pair of stuffed animals, Zepheera tensed at the sight of a silver blur rounding the corner. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel and she dashed out into the aisle before it could get away. Nothing could stop her from chasing down the cybermat.

Nothing except a massive boot crashing down right in front of her.

Against her better instincts and training, she shrieked at the stark realization of how  _close_  she’d come to being flattened. A yelp rang out far above her in return and the human jumped in surprise as Zepheera scrambled to turn back to the shelf. Before she could get far, she was engulfed in darkness and pinned down by something soft and fluffy.

Dazed but unhurt by the impact, it slowly dawned on Zepheera that the human had dropped a box of stuffed animals on top of her, probably a knee-jerk reaction in his shock. Thank goodness it had landed top down rather than dropping straight down. Zepheera definitely wouldn’t have survived that alternative.

Zepheera squirmed and struggled to free herself from her fuzzy prison when the ground shook beneath her and light flooded her senses. The stuffed animal, now noticeably a bear, was lifted away and set aside, revealing a wide set of green eyes that met Zepheera’s startled violets. She heaved an exhausted sigh. Of  _course,_ as fate would have it, she’d been seen by John Smith.

Honestly, it could be worse. She’d rather him than a perfect stranger. But he might as well be a stranger to her. Unlike the Doctor, he’d never met anybody less than six inches high.

John stared openly at the tiny woman on the floor, wondering if she was hurt. He wasn’t entirely sure if she was real, but her lack of movement concerned him. It struck him that ‘she’ was actually a highly detailed toy, a doll he hadn’t noticed and that he’d simply imagined had screamed. To be sure, he reached a hand toward her; for a moment he thought he saw her flinch, the tiniest of motions from the tiniest of people, but he’d never find out for certain.

“John?”

The voice pulled John’s attention away from Zepheera as he straightened and turned toward the speaker. She took the opportunity to disappear, dashing toward the shelf closer to the corner she’d seen the cybermat disappear behind.

“Craig!” John exclaimed excitedly, not even questioning why his friend and temporary housemate was there at his work. “You’re never gonna believe this! C’mere! Carefully, though, don’t want to frighten–”

He cut himself short as he looked back to the spot where he’d left the small woman and she was gone. He frowned. “Miss?” he whispered, leaning over the mess of stuffed animals to scan the floor for the tiny, possibly injured person. “Where’d you go? I won’t hurt you, I promise. Cross my heart.” Zepheera risked a peek, freezing when his head and shoulders nearly filled her view.

“Who are you talking to, John?” Craig pressed, bringing the stroller closer.

John glanced back at Craig and Zepheera popped back into hiding. After a moment, she heard John quietly reply, “No one…sorry, must be seeing things.”

“Maybe you need a break,” said Craig, “Let me buy you lunch.” His voice was closer, and a rustling sound could be heard. They must be cleaning up the stuffed animals, she guessed, and soon enough she felt their footsteps rumble away. Once she was sure she was alone, Zepheera made her way toward the end of the shelf. Hopefully that cybermat hadn’t gotten far in all the confusion.

And hopefully, she hadn’t ruined her chances of getting through this with as little drama as possible.

* * *


	5. I'm So Sorry!

Zepheera’s heart raced as it attempted to crawl out of her throat. She stared wide-eyed at the boot that had nearly crushed her seconds ago.

“Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry!” an all-too-familiar voice tore through the air from above, and the boot shifted away. Zepheera’s head snapped back to lock eyes with the enormous pair of greens she had waited years to see again.

“I didn’t see you there,” the Doctor continued, entirely flustered and concerned for the borrower at his feet that he clearly didn’t recognize yet. The woman behind him remained silent, looking down at Zepheera with a bemused expression. “Are you hurt? I-I can help! I’m the Doctor.”

“Y-yeah…I know,” Zepheera managed between panicked breaths as they began to slow.

The Doctor frowned, leaning in for a closer look at the four and a half inch tall woman before him. “Zepheera? Is…is that you?”

Zepheera brushed her hair from her face; it had grown out several times since he’d seen her last and was currently shoulder-length. No wonder he didn’t recognize her, he remembered her with short hair. But the violet of her eyes hadn’t changed, and a cautious smile tugged at his lips at the sight of them.

“Hey, old man,” she confirmed. The Doctor’s grin widened until it threatened to overtake his face. “Long time, no see.”

“I…” A sadness crept into the Doctor’s eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Getting to her feet, Zepheera nodded slowly. “Me, too.” She glanced at the woman again and allowed herself a playful smirk. “Looks like you’re doing well for yourself, though.”

His brow shot up. “What? Oh! Yes, right! Zepheera, this is Clara. Clara, meet Zepheera. She travels with me!”

Clara blinked, but smiled politely and said, “Hello.”

Zepheera gave her a wave, but her mind was spinning. After all this time, to hear the Doctor automatically refer to her as someone who  _travels_  with him–present tense–was thrilling. She hoped he meant it.

She hoped she could come back and travel with him again.


	6. Time and a Crayon

The chilly, misty night air blew into the TARDIS as the Doctor threw open the doors and stepped out into it. On his shoulder, four and a half inch tall Zepheera hugged herself tightly against the cold, holding in her fleeting body heat.

“So the Ponds are in a cruise-starship crashing toward this planet, and we are on a roof  _why_ , exactly?” she griped through gritted teeth in attempt to keep them from chattering.

“There’s something controlling these clouds, preventing that ship from landing. I’d say it was  _that_  there,” the Doctor explained, treading carefully across the snowy tile along the rooftop. He pointed up at a large dome further on, connected to a spire shooting a brilliant magenta light into the clouds. “Something on that scale’s gotta have a control hub of some kind, and that’s what the TARDIS was tracking. It’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

Zepheera nestled in closer to the Doctor’s neck to keep warm, glancing around and behind him for an escape ladder or staircase. “We’ve gotta get down from here, first,” she murmured.

As she said this, something caught the Time Lord’s eye. His grin went unseen by the borrower and she was used to him randomly picking up speed as he walked, just as he was doing now.

“Gotta get down  _and_  get inside,” he corrected as he approached the smoking chimney stack and braced his hands against the brim. “I say we kill two birds with one stone.”

The Doctor’s sudden stop jostled Zepheera enough to catch her attention, and she turned to take in the chimney and let the Doctor’s plan sink in.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, “ that is a  _terrible_  idea! You could get hurt and I could–Mmph!” Her protests were muffled by the Doctor’s hand scooping her up unexpectedly.

“Oh, c’mon Zepheera, it’s Christmas Eve!” he exulted, dropping her into the pocket on the outside of his coat, the one over his left heart. He cupped a hand gently over it to hold his precious passenger in place. “Hold on tight and have a little holiday spiri-i-i-it!”

With that, he went tumbling down the chimney.

Zepheera clung to the tweed of the Doctor’s jacket as he fell down a stranger’s chimney. As if to distract herself from the utter terror of free-falling inside a giant man’s pocket, a stray thought floated through the back of the borrower’s mind –  _At least it’s warm…_

And seconds before the Doctor landed, it got very warm indeed. His intrusive body knocked a load of soot loose from the chimney’s shaft, and it all came down on top of the quaint fire burning in the fireplace, quenching it just as the Doctor rolled out and jumped to his feet, coughing and patting away at the black soot that covered him from head to toe.

Somewhere in the landing, Zepheera got dislodged from the Doctor’s coat, and with the security of his hand against her suddenly lost, she flew right out of his pocket onto the newly-blackened floor. She lay there dazed as the Doctor addressed the small crowd of humans – or at least, human-like people. If there was one thing traveling through time and space with an alien taught Zepheera, it was to never make assumptions.

“Ah. Yes! Blimey.” The Doctor’s hand went instantly to his pocket to check on his companion. When there was a distinct lack of a borrower there, he scoured the floor until he found her a few feet to his right. She was just recovering, pulling herself to stand. Satisfied that she was alright, he turned back to the other people in the room. “Sorry. Christmas Eve on a rooftop, saw a chimney, my whole brain just went ‘What the hell’!”

While the Doctor carried on rambling about Father Christmas and Frank Sinatra, Zepheera shook the soot out of her clothes and short, dark hair and assessed the room. There was an old, grouchy-looking man with two men standing behind him; Zepheera guessed they were guards, servants, or both. Then there stood a poor family consisting of what looked like a grandmother, a father, and two children. At least some of them were human, this she knew thanks to the slight ache in the joints of her elbows and ankles that always flared up around when humans were around. In any case, she was much too greatly outnumbered by people who were more than a dozen times her own height.

Tearing her deep violet gaze away from the gathering of giants, Zepheera’s attention was drawn to a large, almost organ-like machine in the corner. She made straight for it, digging her hook and line out of her trusty rucksack. With practiced motion, she tossed it high up and it caught on one of the many flashing buttons. She made short work of climbing up the homemade rope, risking a look over her shoulder halfway up.

The Doctor was doing what he did best, distracting and confounding the humans in the room. Only the children seemed unfazed by his antics, even amused by them. And it didn’t take them long to notice the four and a half inch tall woman dashing across the floor and climbing onto the console. But they kept quiet about her, and Zepheera had to commend them for that.

She hauled herself up and made straight for the center of the console. Some of the buttons and switches were labelled, but nothing directly indicated which one would either shut the whole thing down or coax the skies into saving the ship that Amy and Rory were crashing in. She made an educated guess and pushed down on one of the buttons.

It gave a non-committal buzz, but nothing happened otherwise. She tried again, to no avail.

“Doctor!” she called, hoping he could make sense of this baffling machine.

The Time Lord whirled around and gravitated toward the controls immediately. “Ooh! Now, what’s this then? I love this! Big flashy lighty thing, that’s what brought me here!” He ran his fingers along the buttons around and above Zepheera, teeming with excitement. “Big flashy lighty things have got me written all over them! Not actually. Give me time and a crayon.”

“Do  _not_  give him a crayon!” Zepheera emphasized as the Doctor sat down in the nearby chair and spun it around until his back was facing her. She took the opportunity to jump back onto his shoulder, feeling slightly more confident now that she was in her usual place. Here, the Doctor would make sure that no harm came to her.

As it turned out, the controls reacted to the Doctor in the exact same way. No amount of sonic-ing the interface would change the fact that Zepheera and the Doctor’s only hope of saving the Ponds was for a very bad man, the only person who could manipulate the controls and the clouds, to suddenly turn nice just in time for Christmas day.

This was all sounding a little… _familiar_  to Zepheera.


	7. Seeing Double

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the 50th Anniversary special

It was dizzying, being in the presence of two incarnations of the Doctor – three if you counted the one in the corner by himself, who looked the oldest but was chronologically the youngest. The one they’d plucked from the Last Great Time War. Zepheera was glad she was sitting down on the table in front of them, because she’d certainly have fallen over just trying to  _process_  what she was looking at and listening to.

She knew both of these men at different points in her life. They were so different, yet they were the same person, and Zepheera had traveled with them both (although, the tenth hadn’t yet met her in his timeline). And what was worse, they were getting  _chummy_.

“I’ll be honest,” said the younger Doctor whom Zepheera had decided to call Ten in her head. She’d settled on Eleven with her current Doctor, and the third was confusing to say the least, so she held off on nicknaming him. “When you first showed up, I thought for a second that you’d taken on a Tertatian for a companion.”

“Oh, I remember the Tertatians!” exclaimed Eleven. “Little purpley people with their little farms and mills and things!”

Ten smirked reminiscently, then glanced back at Zepheera as she sat there quietly. He took her silence as discomfort, and quickly amended, “I mean, obviously you’re not. Same size, basically, but significantly less…purple. …Sorry?” He scratched the back of his neck.

Zepheera nodded politely in acknowledgement, still not quite sure if she trusted herself enough to speak. What do you say to a person you saw die and become the person he’s talking to?

“Do you remember that little Tertatian lad?” Eleven cut in, allowing Zepheera’s shoulders to relax a hair. “The ten-year-old who kept stowing away on your shoelaces!”

Ten broke into a fit of giggles. “Speedy little thing, wasn’t he?”

“Running around with that crossbow of his!” snickered Eleven.

“ _Oh_ , what was his name? Started with…M? M…Mar–no no, not ‘Mar’. Moh, Meh, Mih…Mickey-Mick-Mickey–no, that’s wrong!” Ten’s frown deepened as he racked his brain.

Eleven clapped his hands together. “Matz!”

Ten’s eyes lit up. “That’s it! Good ol’ Matzy.”

Zepheera allowed herself to smile at their antics. At least they were getting along.


	8. I Know That Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previous: [[1]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849648/chapters/39559606) [[2]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16840228/chapters/39559885)

After reuniting with Clara, Zepheera opted to ride on her shoulder to avoid further conflict with her Doctors. Her shoulder was slimmer than either of theirs, but as long as she kept still and steady it wasn’t so bad. If she ever moved around too much, there was plenty of Clara’s hair within Zepheera’s reach. A little yank would do Clara less harm than a fall would do the borrower. 

It was bizarre for Zepheera to bear witness to the wedding of the Tenth Doctor and Queen Elizabeth I, but it wasn’t nearly as awkward for her as it was for his other incarnations. Clara was enthusiastically supportive, a feeling that Zepheera just couldn’t replicate. She didn’t know that version of the Doctor like Zepheera did. 

The second it was over, Ten rushed to his TARDIS and the others followed suit. Zepheera was hit with a pang of nostalgia at the sight of his desktop theme, but with three Doctors in one TARDIS, it didn’t last. The theme kept glitching between their personal versions, finally settling on Eleven’s. 

“Right then!” he clapped his hands together. “London Tower, here we come!”

“No!” Clara interjected, making Zepheera flinch in surprise. She tugged on one of Clara’s brown locks to remind the human of her proximity to the noise she made. Biting back a wince, Clara continued in a lower tone. 

“UNIT HQ,” she insisted. She’d been there with the Zygons as they took over the facility, using an old Vortex Manipulator to travel back in time to meet up with the Doctors. “They followed us there in the Black Archive.” 

All three Doctors stopped what they were doing to turn toward Clara with grave expressions. 

“Uh-oh,” Zepheera murmured. “I know that face. Triple that face can’t be good.”


End file.
